


Lord Give Me Patience...

by Jack_Wilder



Series: Enemies to Friends? Could be Stockholm syndrome. [2]
Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES!, Donald really wants to throttle Henry, Go watch The Old Guard :D, Henry is a Little Shit, M/M, Shameless promoting of The Old Guard which is out on Netflix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_Wilder/pseuds/Jack_Wilder
Summary: ...or an untraceable handgun.
Relationships: Henry Prescott | Mitchell Hatley & Donald Ressler, Henry Prescott | Mitchell Hatley/Donald Ressler
Series: Enemies to Friends? Could be Stockholm syndrome. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816426
Kudos: 8





	Lord Give Me Patience...

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES! 
> 
> More shameless promoting of The Old Guard that can be viewed on Netflix. Go and watch it if you haven't. And if you have, go watch it again. :D 
> 
> If you see any errors, please to POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

The temptation to strangle Prescott was growing stronger each day.

 _"I have a job for you."_

Prescott’s voice sounded too cheery on the other end of the call, and Ressler barely restrained himself from hurling his phone into the concrete wall. The only two things stopping him was that he was currently at work, and he had just bought the phone three weeks ago. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath before speaking through clenched teeth. 

"What?"

 _"I am going to text you an address. Be there, 8:30 p.m. tomorrow night."_ Again, he hung up before Ressler had a chance to respond. 

Ressler stared down at his phone; his expression was dark enough to cause concern in Aram who was watching him.

"Um- ex-excuse me Agent Ressler?"

Ressler looked up at the nervous FBI technician specialist.

"Is something wrong with your phone? I can fix it for you." Aram gave him a small hopeful smile and Ressler felt all the anger drain out of him.

"Phone's fine," he gave Aram a reassuring smile. "Thanks for the offer though."

He heard Aram respond with "anytime" as he walked off. 

* * *

Ressler knew the address sounded familiar when he drove up in front of the movie theatre the next night. He parked and stared out the windshield at the neon sign boasting **_'The Greatest Movie Theatre On Earth'_**.

He had no idea what Prescott was up to, and it bothered him greatly; as he usually had a good read on people, but with the Cleaner, Ressler had no idea what was going on in that manipulative mind of his. 

Checking his watch, Ressler saw that the time read 8:20 p.m., and with a resigned sigh he exited his vehicle, donning his jacket to hide his gun and badge. There was no way of knowing if he would be needing either, but when it came to Henry Prescott, he learned it was better to be safe than sorry. Entering the establishment, he saw Henry sitting on a bench outside by the concession stands, frowning at his phone. 

Ressler marched over to him, internally glad that the area was empty, saved for a few staff members putting out snacks. It was only when he was standing over Henry did the man tear his eyes away from his phone.

"Ah, good evening agent." His smile was bright and welcoming, and Ressler had to wonder who many poor souls fell for that false sense of genuineness. 

Ressler was going to meet his false cordiality with calm and patience. "The fuck do you want asshole?" Yeah, not what he was going for, and he saw the displeased glint in Henry's eyes.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Ressler wanted to wipe that infuriating smirk from his face. "A good little catholic boy like you."

"My mother's dead and I'm an atheist." He watched as the smile instantly fell from Henry's face.

Henry pocketed his phone, "I had no idea. I am sorry.” He looked genuinely apologetic for his words. “That wasn't in your files."

Donald rolled his eyes as he turned to walk away, only to stop and face Henry once more. "You have _files_ on me?"

"Yes, I have files on all my clients." He confirmed as if talking about the weather. "Especially those I want to keep in line." Ressler's eyes narrowed dangerously. "But there was nothing about your mother's passing."

Donald snorted, "somethings are best kept off the record. She went back to her maiden name when she divorced my father, and I buried her under that name." 

"What's her name."

"None of your damn business Prescott." He responded without missing a beat.

"And the catholic medal you wear?" The man just did not know when to quit.

Ressler knew Henry was referring to the gold medal that hung around his neck constantly. How he knew about it, considering Ressler wore it under his shirt, was anyone’s guess.

"My mother left it to me.” He explained, knowing that Prescott would not drop it. “It's 24 karat gold; she told me to consider it a family heirloom, and that I don't have to be a believer to wear it."

Having given the man what he wanted; Ressler was back in business mode. "Back on topic: why am I here?" 

Henry handed him a square shape piece of paper, that he took from his pants pocket in response. Ressler glanced it and saw that it was a movie ticket. He managed to bite back the offensive retort he had on his tongue but rolled his eyes. 

_"The Old Guard?"_ He waved the ticket, "I saw this already." It was a damn good movie, and he was looking forward to the sequel, whenever it was made. 

Ressler had seen it by himself the night it had opened at this same theatre. It was a little-known fact, that Ressler hated watching movies with other people, whether at home or at the movie theatre. He had no problem being in a movie theatre with other patrons, he just specifically disliked being there with someone. It was as if whoever he went with, always had to make some little comment during the movie, which annoyed Ressler to no end. So, he started going by himself. Being here, together with Henry was the first time in a long time, that he was seeing a movie with someone else. 

"Well," Henry paused in front of one of the snack counters, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. "You will be seeing it again, with me this time." He glanced at Ressler from the corner of his eye, who was now staring down at his phone with a frown. "Heard it's good." He wanted the man’s attention back on him.

"Yeah," Ressler pocketed his phone, "it's a great movie."

Henry nodded, ordering a large popcorn, nacho chips and cheese, and two waters. Ressler rolled his eyes at the amount of food but took the popcorn and one of the waters when it was handed over to him. With it being a weekday, the theatre was almost empty, just them and fifteen (Ressler counted) other patrons. The movie started, and Ressler was mindlessly nibbling on the popcorn when he felt a nudge on his arm, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Henry offering the nachos to him, so he exchanged the popcorn for those. This went on until intermission. 

Ressler hated to admit it, but Henry was a good movie buddy. He was quiet during the movie; completely engrossed with what was happening on the screen before him, not making any snide remarks or elbowing Ressler to ask, 'did you see that'. It was refreshing not being disturbed, but at the same time, he could not help but wonder what the hell Henry was up to.

Since the batting cages three weeks ago, he had not heard from the man. And then, out of nowhere he was contacted, only to discover after arriving at the prescribed destination, that it was for another 'hanging out' activity. The thought that Henry Prescott wanted to hang out with him as if they were friends made Ressler's skin crawl. 

Ressler shook his head, shifting his focus back to the movie, he could ponder about the enigmatic manipulative bastard later, for now, he would watch five bad-ass immortals kick ass again.

"That was a great movie." Henry commented. 

Ressler agreed it was a good movie. "Yeah, everything about it was on point. I hope it gets a sequel."

They walked side-by-side out of the theatre, Ressler was intent on getting to his car, and going home, when a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked at the hand on his arm, and then at the owner of said arm.

Henry's eyes were trained on him. "You still owe me that dinner from last time."

Ressler cocked an eyebrow and pointedly held up his right wrist so that Henry could see the time, which read _11:15 p.m._

"I don't know about you, but I have a job for which I have to get up early. So, no dinner tonight." He shook off Henry's arm and continued walking, out the theatre and into the cool night air. 

Again, Henry walked with him to his car. "Are you busy tomorrow night?"

Ressler pulled open the car door but did not enter the vehicle. He instead stood outside, using the open door as a shield between, them as he eyed Henry warily. 

"Why?"

"Just answer the question."

"No, I'm not busy tomorrow night." Ressler sounded as if his teeth were being pulled. 

Henry smiled; an actual genuine smile that made Ressler even more suspicious. "Great, you're taking me to dinner." Ressler opened his mouth to argue, but Henry spoke over him. "I will pick you up at 7:00 p.m."

"You _know_ where I live?" Ressler scoffed, "of course you would." He felt a headache starting. He got those a lot when he spent time in this man's company. "Don't you have any actual friends to hang out with?"

Henry looked rather offended at the question. "I do, but I choose who I spend my time with, and this time I am choosing you."

"Again."

"That's just how lucky you are." Henry grinned at him, "well, this is where we part ways agent. Good night, get some rest." He turned and walked away.

Ressler rolled his eyes skyward, "I am going to kill him." He grumbled to himself, getting in his car and went home.

* * *

"Agent Ressler," Henry's calm demeanour belied the anger that he was currently feeling, as he spoke into his phone. "You, Agent Ressler are a very stubborn man, who likes to play games with his life." He took a deep breath, pinching his nose bridge. "You better be dying, as to why you stood me up. This is the first and only time this will happen." 

He ended the call and pocketed his phone. With one more glance up at Ressler's dark apartment window, Henry got in his car and left. 

Meanwhile, at a hospital across town, Ressler was just being wheeled out of surgery and back to his room to recover, unaware of the threatening voicemail on his phone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title and Summary - prompt from an Instagram page 'the.write.way.to.right'
> 
> For the sake of this fic, let's all pretend that The Old Guard was shown in movie theatres.
> 
> Also, Ressler is a lefty in this fic. I am right-handed, but I think persons who are left-handed are awesome. :)


End file.
